This morning I found this story. And I was like, haven’t I read this somewhere before?
So I checked all my old entries on the blog (’cause I had a feeling I’d written about it) And voilá, there it was!
This one is both funnier, but at the same time much more lemon-y. This is not for the fainthearted. I might just dub this Blood-play. Almost.
“I was on my period. The rag. My moon time. That ‘dot on the calendar’. The crimson tide. Eve’s curse. A visit from Aunt Flow.
It was indeed, that time of the month again, and I damned it straight to hell. And that’s just me being merciful.
Periods are such a touchy topic, and when brought up in conversation, they usually bring to mind a not-so-pleasant image. Bloated, bitchy women, who yell at everything with a penis, cry when they hear a twig snap, eat an endless supply of Hershey bars, and spend lots of alone time with Patrick Swayze and a whole lot of dirty dancing.
Well, I felt like a woman scorned. Mother Nature was a cold hearted bitch for taking away the one man who brought light to my days. Not only was my boyfriend sensitive about discussing my periods, but he was sensitive towards the act itself.
Fucking bloody periods (no pun intended)! I just didn’t understand them. Edward was my drug, my natural high. The more time I spent with him, the further down I spiraled. It was if I was falling and falling with no barrier to land on, and it felt so utterly exciting—a never-ending rush of love and excitement and fear and lust…
Lust. Oh, God, how I lusted for him so. The cruelest part of it was the unquenchable lust that I felt for him. I was thirsting for him. I didn’t think it was humanely possible for me to feel any more intense, but at this moment, his touch alone would make my eyes roll back in passion.”
So go read it! It’s really good. Promise!😛